


Birds Of A Feather

by Zeeexp



Series: Tales of the Universe [3]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, No Angst, Son of Ender, Winged Charles | Grian, Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeeexp/pseuds/Zeeexp
Summary: Tommy injures himself and is unable to clean up his wings. Now, will he remain stubborn and refuse any help, or will he seek someone out to help with his wings?
Relationships: Charles | Grian & Phil Watson, Charles | Grian & TommyInnit
Series: Tales of the Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119080
Comments: 15
Kudos: 931
Collections: Completed stories I've read, EndDragon! Tommy





	Birds Of A Feather

Tommy was curled up on his bed, scowling at nothing in particular. He had done another one of his secret flying trips, and of course he just had to crash. Thanks to a stupid parrot, he now had a fractured elbow that hurt so bad when he moved it that he had to get Stress to put it in a cast for him, claiming that he had had a trident accident and ploughed face first into the sand.

  
  
This was fine. He just needed to hold out until his elbow healed or he got to the End to get an end crystal, but the screams of dying endermen did not soothe his frazzled nerves. He could do this. Who needed the other hand, anyway? Not him. He was a big man.  
  


That is, until he realised that he needed to clean his wings. Tommy shook his head. No. He could hold out. Stress had told him that the cast would probably be only for a month or so, until his elbow had healed. Tommy wasn't sure. He hadn't been listening to all the medical bullshit that Stress had been saying. Nothing against her, but he just found it boring.  
  


He cast a forlorn look at his wings and sighed. They weren't extremely feathered, so they should alright, right?  
  


Wrong.  
  


Within just two days, Tommy could feel the difference. He had magicked his wings away even though the hermits already knew, just because he felt more comfortable. Even through the magic, he could feel the feathers weighing down heavily on his back. And those weren't the only things that needed cleaning; his wing membranes and the scales lining them were coated in dust and Prime knows what else. Every night when Tommy unfurled his wings, he lamented the state of them. He couldn't let them fall into complete disrepair, and it was the growing desperation that led him to seek out Grian.  
  


He found the avian man sunning himself on a rock, his silvery grey wings spread out on the rock. Tommy caught himself envying the other man's wings and how clean they looked. He cleared his throat to get Grian's attention, who folded his wings.  
  


"Oh, Tommy! What brings you around here?"  
  


Tommy swallowed nervously and set down a set of soft brushes and a cloth. He unfurled his wings slowly, trying not to look at the state of them. He knew they looked bad.  
  


"Oh, Tommy..." Grian stood up and walked closer, reaching out his hand to brush against his wings, but his hand stalled as he remembered something. "Can I?" He asked quietly.  
  


Tommy swallowed and nodded. "Please."

* * *

  
  
Grian winced internally at the state of Tommy's wings. He hadn't seen wings this bad since... well, ever. By his estimation, it must have been five days since the wings had been cleaned. He spread out the wing, taking stock. The feathers were all clumped together, and the scales were coated in grime and god knows what else. Grian decided to start on the feathery part first, since he was intimately familiar with that. He guided Tommy to sit and touched the feathers, running his hands through the ones which had clumped together and gently teasing them apart.  
  


They came apart easily, and Grian sorted through them, using the soft brushes and some soap for the more grimy ones. He left that wing to dry in the sun and went to work on the other one. The task was repetitive. Boring. Grian liked it. It reminded him of those days where he would carve out entire caverns and such for farms, secret bases and his builds.  
  


He moved on to the scales, brushing down the scales with a stiff brush. The scales began to regain their glossy look again, and Grian rubbed some of them with a damp cloth. Tommy seemed to be enjoying it, a low rumble emitting from his chest.  
  


"Feeling better?"  
  


"Yeah. Thanks, Big G."  
  


Grian nodded and picked up the cloth, running it down the membranes of the wing. Tommy shuddered, exhaling shakily. Grian took note of the scar tissue webbing the membrane.  
  


Wings were extremely fragile, and anything could easily ruin them. He ran the cloth over the white lumps, concentrated in two messy lumps on the centre of his wings. But if Grian had learnt anything from Tommy, it was to let things be. He would reveal them when he thought the time was ripe. But for now, all Grian could do was to clean Tommy's wings for him.  
  


When he was done, Tommy had folded them and disappeared, presumably off to do something else. But day after day, he would turn up at the same location and quietly sit down beside Grian.

It was during one of their preening sessions one day did Tommy say something. "Grian, have you ever gone without cleaning your wings?"

  
  
"Once." Grian pressed his palm against one of the lumps of scar tissue on Tommy's wing. He remembered that day. It had been an accident. He had fallen into his mob spawner farm, and his rockets as well as his wings had gotten wet. Luckily, he had managed to block himself in. Unfortunately, his communicator had fallen into water, and he had limited food supplies. Scar had found him huddled in the wall of his mob farm, wet, cold and on three hearts.

  
  
"It wasn't great."  
  


* * *

  
"Big G." Grian looked up at Tommy. His arm had just been healed, and he had stopped coming to the stone now. Truth be told, Grian felt a little lonely.  
  


"Could I...could I clean your wings?" The question took Grian by surprise, and he sat there, his jaw hanging slack. "I mean, you did help me out then, and I'm trying to be a nicer man, innit?" Tommy shifted uncomfortably. "I did this for Phil too, so you don't have to teach me..."  
  


Grian could barely catch the last part, but the meaning of the gesture was clear: it was a sign of intense trust from Tommy, and he was asking for the same back, tentatively, cautiously. And Grian was more than happy to oblige. He spread his wings, a silent invitation. Tommy reached out and brushed his hands against the silvery blue feathers, smoothing them out gently. He slowly worked his way down, his hands methodical and calming, and Grian felt himself relaxing.  
  


"Grian..." He turned around to see Tommy holding a handful of feathers. He looked up at Grian, his eyes wide and round with fear. "I- I didn't mean to- I just touched it and- I'm so sorry-"  
  


"Nononono! It's okay, it's okay. I've been moulting recently, so my feathers are more prone to falling out," Grian explained, trying to soothe Tommy's fears. "It's fine. See?" He spread his wings, pointing to a few bald spots.  
  


"Okay. Okay, thank you." Grian nodded and dropped his wings again, allowing Tommy to continue.  
  


A few days passed, and Tommy was very quiet. Few hermits had seen him, and Grian went to check up on him. He ran into Tommy, who was holding something behind his back.  
  


"Hey, Tommy. How have you-" Grian's jovial greeting was cut short by Tommy shoving something at his chest. He shook it out, wondering what it was. A bracelet woven from thin twine, feathers hanging from it at regular intervals.  
  


Wait a minute.  
  


Those were his feathers.  
  


And that scale was Tommy's.  
  


"I made it for you, big man. It's okay if you don't like it, I just-" Tommy stopped when Grian lunged towards him, engulfing him in a hug.  
  


"No, I like it a lot. Thank you, Tommy."  
  


Tommy was tense under Grian's touch, but he eventually melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around him.  
  


"Thank you, big G." His voice was muffled by Grian's sweater, but the emotion was clear.


End file.
